The Ways of Winter

TRAPPED BEHIND ENEMY LINES, CAN HE FIND THE STRENGTH TO DEFEND ALL THAT HE VALUES MOST, OR EVEN JUST TO SURVIVE?

It’s the dead of winter and George Talbot Traherne, the new human huntsman for the Wild Hunt, is in trouble. The damage in Gwyn ap Nudd's domain reveals the deadly powers of a dangerous foe who has mastered an unstoppable weapon and threatens the fae dominions in both the new and the old worlds.

Secure in his unbreachable stronghold, the enemy holds hostages and has no compunction about using them in deadly experiments with newly discovered way-technology. Only George has a chance to reach him in time to prevent the loss of thousands of lives, even if it costs him everything.

Welcome to the portrait of a paladin in-the-making, Can he carry out a rescue without the deaths of all involved? Will his patron, the antlered god Cernunnos, help him, or just write him off as a dead loss? He has a family to protect and a world to save, and little time to do it in.

Editorial Reviews

There are many instances where a sequel fails to deliver on the promise shown in the first book. Happily, this is not one of those. The quality of the writing has been maintained at the highest levels, making this as absorbing as its predecessor. Relationships with old friends from the first book are further explored with sensitivity and wit, while new characters are introduced and developed with great skill. This is fantasy writing at its best, and I would definitely recommend Karen Myers' books to any fan of the genre.
— Baily's Hunting Directory. See the full review.

Karen Myers’ substantive knowledge of venery and her credible interpretation of the interplay between man, hound, and quarry provide a satisfying and authentic foundation for her imaginative and enjoyable stories.
— Foxhunting Life

An Outlandish Knight

George's Pocket Watch(St. George and the Dragon)

— From Chapter 10

An outlandish knight from the northlands came,
And he came a-wooing to me.
He said he'd take me to the northlands,
And there he'd marry me.

“Go fetch me some of your father's gold,
And some of your mother's fee,
And two of the best nags out of the stable
Where they stand thirty and three.”

She's fetched him some of her father's gold,
And some of her mother's fee,
And two of the best horses out of the stable
Where they stood thirty and three.

She's mounted up on her milk-white steed,
And he on the dapple-gray.
They rode till they came all to the sea-side,
Full three hours before it was day.

“Light off, light off thy milk-white steed,
And deliver it unto me.
Six pretty maids have I drownded here,
And thou the seventh shall be.”

Thunderbolt

“Take off, take off thy holland smock,
And deliver it unto me,
For methinks it looks too rich and gay
To rot in the salt, salt sea.”

“Oh if I must take off my holland smock,
Pray turn thy back on me.
For it is not fitting that such a ruffian
A naked woman should see.”

Arms of TalbotGules, a lion rampant within a bordure engrailled or.

These were the paternal arms of Gwenllian, the daughter and heiress of Rhys Mechyll (d.1244), Prince of the Welsh House of Dinefwr, grandson of Rhys ap Gruffydd, and wife of Gilbert Talbot (d.1274), grandfather of Gilbert Talbot, 1st Baron Talbot (d.1345/6) assumed by Talbot as arms of alliance of a great heiress, superseding his own former paternal arms of Bendy of 10 pieces argent and gules.

(Source: Wikipedia)

He's turned him right and round about
To view the leaves on the tree.
She's catched him by his middle sae sma'
And tumbled him into the sea.

Sometime he sank, sometimes he swam,
Until he came to the side.
“Take hold of me hand, me pretty maiden,
And I'll make you my bride.”

“Lie there, lie there, thou false-hearted knight.
Lie there instead of me.
Six pretty maids have you drownded here,
But the seventh has drownded thee.”

She's mounted up on her milk-white steed
And led the dapple-gray.
She rode till she came to her father's hall door,
Full two hours before it was day.

The parrot being up in the window sae high,
Hearing the lady did say,
“Methinks that some ruffian has led you astray,
At your being so long away.”

“Oh hold your tongue me pretty parrot,
And tell no tales on me.
Thy cage shall be made of the glittering gold
Instead of the willow tree.”

Her father being up in his chamber sae high,
Hearing the parrot did say,
“What ails thee, what ails thee, me pretty parrot,
That you cry out so long before day?”

“Tis no laughing matter,” said the parrot,
“That so loudly I call unto thee.
For the cat has got into the window sae high,
And I fear that she will have me.”

“Well turned, well turned, me pretty parrot,
Well turned, well turned for me.
Thy cage shall be made of the glittering gold
With spokes of the best ivory.”